


Hold Me Up

by lavenderlotion



Series: Stetopher Appreciation Week [7]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: BAMF Chris Argent, BAMF Stiles, Fluff, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Murder Husbands, Polyamory, Polygamy, Pre-Poly, Pre-Slash, Season/Series 03, Season/Series 03 Episode 02, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Stetopher Week, Stetopher Week 2017, Stiles is a series badass, Stiles kills the Alpha Pack, Stiles uses a gun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 02:46:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12572020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavenderlotion/pseuds/lavenderlotion
Summary: Stiles can't loose anyone else, won't idly stand by when the ones he cares for dies. He's not sure he'll be handle it, and god forbid he ever looses his dad. So he prepares himself, makes use of the resources available to him when he has to.He's damn lucky he did, since he's pretty sure Scott or Derek would have died in the bank.





	Hold Me Up

**Author's Note:**

> October 30th - Murder. 
> 
> That’s right. Make them kill someone. It can be the plotting, it can be the act, straight up serial killers, murder husbands. Any of it all of it. I don’t care.
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> [Check out the rest of the weeks prompts, right here!](http://tridom.tumblr.com/post/166440096409/stetopher-week-prompts)

Walking up to the Argent home was not something Stiles every thought he would do again. The first time he was there - well, he has enough memories of this place to last him a life time. It’s not even that he  _ wants _ to be here, but people keep dying and that’s not something the boy is okay with anymore. He feels like he needs to  _ do _ something, if not to help others than to at least protect  _ himself _ . His dad, too. 

So if pushing down the  _ panicnostopgetmeawayfromhere  _ and vile that insists on rising in his throat with every step is what it takes, well that that’s what he’s going to do. It’s just a house, and he knows that even though Gerard may not be dead, he is  _ gone _ . The man can’t hurt him from whatever corner of the world he has crawled into and the knowledge is enough for him to knock on the door.

Thankfully, Chris answers. He’s here to see the man anyway and he would have no idea what to do if it were Allison. It isn’t that he doesn’t like the girl, he just - well no, he doesn’t like her. She went bat shit crazy and no one batted a fucking eye, kidnapping  _ two of her peers  _ and aiding her Grandfather in the torture of three of them. 

Yeah, he fucking saw her when he was in that basement, whether she knows it or not. 

“Stiles,” Chris said his name slowly, like he’s testing it out on his tongue. It’s fair, since most of the interaction the two of them have had was Chris throwing him up against a wall, “Allison is out with Lydia right now.”

“Oh good!” Stiles chirps, forcing his tone light and easy. He’s not going to admit that his fingers won’t stop shaking, “You’re the hunter I was looking for!”

Chris stares for another long moment and it makes Stiles want to squirm. Finally the man says, “What is it I can do for you, then?”

“Happy you asked!” Stiles exclaims, elbowing his way past the man and into his home, already talking again, “You see, this town has become a fucking  _ shit show  _ of terrifying, ‘I go bump in the night’ type monsters, and us lowly humans aren’t as safe as we used to think.”

“What are you doing?” The man asked, still staring at Stiles but following the boy into his home anyway.

“I need bullets,” Stiles tells him, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he continues to breathe. 

“Pardon?”

“I need bullets? Like, wolfsbane bullets to shoot crazy, murdering Alpha’s with?” Stiles raised his voice at the end of the sentence - he thought his initial statement was pretty straightforward, but.

“Do you even know how to use a gun?” The man asked, eyebrows drawing together.

“ _ ’Do you even know how to use a gun’ _ he asks! Of course I know how to use a gun!” Stiles scoffs, taking a step back to stare at the man, “My dad is the  _ Sheriff _ !”

“Alright,” Chris said slowly, “I can’t -”

“Cool! Thank you so much! I’m figuring I’ll be good with like, three dozen total? Nothing too crazy, but enough to get the job done if need be.” Stiles tells him, thinking about it. He doesn't want to necessarily  _ kill  _ anyone - though he will. But he needs to be able to protect himself if the need arises, and the Alpha’s show up often and randomly enough that being prepared is crucial.

“Get the job done as in?”

“I’m not going to let anyone hurt my pack, if that’s what you’re asking.” Stiles states, his voice firm.

Chris for his part stares for another moment, but Stiles isn’t backing down. He refuses to lose anyone else, to let anyone else he loves even get hurt when he could have stopped it. He’s not going to sit idly by, not since Gerard. 

* * *

It hadn’t taken much else to convince Chris to fork over what Stiles needed. The hunter didn’t seem to have much of an issue with supplying a teenager with bullets, at least after Stiles took apart and reassembled multiple guns. He couldn’t prove he was a good shot but at least the man now knew that Stiles had at least  _ some _ experience handling weaponry.

Chris, in the end, had been kinder than Stiles had expected. The man gave him not only wolfsbane bullets, but an entire case of mistletoe ones as well. Stiles had left more than satisfied and continued onto his second destination of the day: Deaton. Despite the fact that Stiles didn’t trust the man further than he could throw him, the vet was the only resource Stiles had to get what he needed. 

He didn’t like being in the clinic - the lights were always too dim, the secretary desk always too empty and he could hear the animals moving around in the back. It was eerie in a way Stiles didn’t think a vet's office should be, but seeing as Deaton doubled as a mystical magic dude it sort of made sense.

He rang the bell on the counter, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He always felt … heavy when he was in the building. He wasn’t sure  _ why _ , but he could never get over the feeling of being weighed down my something. It was incredibly frustrating, seeing as Stiles  _ craved _ knowledge, had not not knowing what was going on around him. Not knowing was dangerous, that was something Stiles had learned long before Scott was ever bit. 

Deaton rounded the corner from the back of the shop, slightly raising an eyebrow as Stiles’ fingers tapped quickly out on his leg. The air still felt too heavy and tight in his chest but he didn’t know how to get it to stop. Instead he raised his own brow at Deaton, staring the man down before he relented, face falling back into it’s perfect show of indifference. 

The man raised the partition silently and Stiles seemed to  _ feel  _ the barrier that it represented snap open, the heaviness of the room slowly fading out. It was, well it was strange, and Stiles didn't really have the time to think about it. So instead he followed Deaton into one of his back rooms, this one looking more like an office than an operating room.

The man stared at him, not saying anything and letting the silence stretch. Stiles just looked around the room. The furthest shelf from the door was lined with countless glass bottles, some holding powder, some holding long stemmed herbs and some holding rocks. None had labels, not even the ones that looked alike. The wall opposite was littered with thick books and scrolls, all looking incredibly old and fragile.

“I need moutain ash,” Stiles finally said, tired of the silence, “And mistletoe.”

“And now why would you possibly need such things?” 

“Well considering an  _ entire pack of crazed Alpha werewolves  _ are actively trying to kill me, I’d say personal protection is a pretty valid reason.” Stiles snarked, narrowing his eyes at the man.

“I see,” The man said, and his voice, like his face was impassive enough to not give anything away.

It was infuriating.

“Right, so if you could get me some and I’ll be on my merry way …?” Stiles asked, but Deaton just stared at him, the asme calm open expression on his face as always before he spoke again.

“You have a - spark, for lack of a better word. A little extra something in here,” Deaton tapped his chest, his eyes boring into Stiles as he went on, “That makes you just the littlest bit more than human.”

“I- I,  _ what _ ?” Stiles asked, eyes wide as he took in what Deaton was saying. 

“I have a book. A, journal of sorts that may help.” 

“And what the hell do I have to do for it?” Stiles demanded, not liking the feeling in his chest.

Deaton just smiled, a sharp thing that seemed to darken his eyes, “In time, all in time.”

* * *

“There that’s it!” Stiles exclaimed, pointing at the piece of text. Scott and Derek hadn’t left too long ago but Stiles could not get the idea that there was something  _ more _ going on out of his mind. His insistence paid off.

“Hecatolite,” Peter muttered, brows pulling together.

“Is that awful? That sounds awful?” 

“Get ‘em on the phone, call them. Now!” Peter snapped, looking wide eyed at the paper 

“Why?”

“‘Cause Boyd and that girl aren’t going to kill each other, they’re going to kill Derek and Scott.”

The phone call went about as well as could be expected and when the line went dead Stiles felt his heart stop. He couldn’t, he  _ couldn’t _ lose someone else. And fuck, it couldn't be Scott. That, well that was too much and he felt heavy, brain moving too slowly as he tried to come up with a plan. And he had  _ promised himself  _ he wouldn’t let anyone else die which meant - well it meant he was going to have to do something. 

“Fuck.  _ Fuck _ !” Stiles shouted, slamming his fist on the table. He took a deep breath and then another, because panicking would help absolutely no one, “Okay. Okay I’m going.”

Stiles grabbed his phone off the table, jogging towards the loft door, “And where exactly do you think you’re going?”

Peter’s voice was mocking and Stiles narrowed his eyes as he glared at the man, spitting his next words, “I’m going to save my pack.”

He stared at the older wolf, daring him to try and stop him. Instead Peter just nodded before following, and when Stiles raised an eyebrow just said, “Derek would be upset if I let you get yourself killed.”

Well. 

The bank was dark when they arrived, the power seemingly out. Stiles flipped his cell phone's flashlight on, peering around the room he was standing in. It seemed to be the lobby of the bank, the ceilings high and floor open. The place was a mess, furniture thrown everywhere, sheets strewn across the floor. Peter was looking around, titling his head as though he was listening.

“Nothing,” Peter muttered with a frown, “They could be inside the vault already, sound may not carry.”

Pulling up the photo he had taken of the banks blueprints, they followed the hall that curved towards the vault. Peter didn’t say anything but his fangs dropped and he popped his claws at the same time Stiles felt the sudden heaviness he was beginning to associate with having a magical barrier near by. He held his pistol in front of him, safety already off when they entered the building. He tried to focus on the magic he could feel around him - but the book Deaton had given him had only said so much.

Peter grabbed his arm and tugged him back into his chest, pressing them both tight to the wall. Stiles just widened his eyes, trying to get his heart rate back to something a little closer to normal and less  _ holyshitIamgoingtodie _ . He could hear Kali’s footsteps and knew she would be able to hear his heart. The tapping of her nails was getting closer as she neared the corner they were tucked against and Stiles nudged Peter until the man moved a little ways down the wall, Stiles following and raising his gun, widening his stance. 

He took another breath, holding it for a moment before letting it out slowly, watching as the she wolf's foot wrapped around the corner, the rest of her body following. Stiles gave himself a breath to aim before he pulled the trigger, locking his elbows to catch the recoil. He felt Peter gasp against him, the man winding an arm around his waist as he peered around the boy.

Stiles looked down, trying to find it in him to feel remorse. Kali was lying unmoving on the floor, eyes still wide open as black blood oozed from the wound in her forehead. Stiles let out a shaky breath, taking the comfort Peter was offering as he leaned into the man for just a moment. Peter nuzzled his neck briefly and Stiles didn’t pull away, the physical contact felt  _ good _ , and he could examine why he didn’t mind it coming from Peter later on.

For now he stepped around the woman’s body, gun up as he continued down the hall she had came from, “Stay behind me. Worse case scenario, I have mountain ash and can keep us safe. Best case we get everyone out and hope to hell that Erica is still alive.”

“Great idea,” Peter muttered and Stiles could still feel the man's heat at his back. It was quite as they kept walking until Peter stopped Stiles with a hand on the boys shoulder and said, “Christopher and his daughter are here.”

“Fucking great,” Stiles muttered, sighing hard. The last thing he needed were more people involved in this mess. It didn’t help that Stiles suspected Allison was only here to prove something to Derek, “Are they near us?”

“Yes, in fact they should be here in three, two, and on-”

“What the hell are you two doing here?” Christopher hissed, and Stiles watched as he quickly stalked over to them, though he made no noise - at least nothing his human ears could hear - while Allison’s boots clacked loudly on the floor with each step she took.

“Well Stiles here is putting down Alpha’s,” Peter informed them and Stiles was near certain the man sounded proud. Chris just sighed, letting his arms drop to his side.

“I really didn’t want you to have to use them.”

Stiles leveled a glare at the other man before stepping forward. They didn’t have the time to stand around, not now. Scott and Derek had already been in their for far too long, and Stiles had no idea how bad it could be. So he continued on, Peter resuming his spot close -  _ too close  _ \- behind him, Chris standing just as near to his left side, watching their backs. Allison was just standing around wide eyed, as if this was somehow worse than aiding in the kidnap and torture of her friends.

No. Now is not the time.

Stiles turned the last corner only to stumble to a stop. The vault was right there and though he couldn’t hear anything he could see through the door. Boyd and Derek were wrestling with one other, Body strong claws and sharp fangs as he attacked Derek. The older wolf was holding back, seemingly trying to tire the feral wolf. He knew Scott and the other girl must be in there somewhere, but Stiles was too busy focusing on the Alpha’s in front of him.

Deucalion stood in the centre of the hall, Ennis on one side and the mega twins joined together on his other, both flanking him as they loomed over the man. The man was smirking, hands folded over his cane, sunglasses firmly in place. 

“Ah and what are you going to do now?” Deucalion asked, laugh clear in his voice.

“Well I  _ was _ thinking of getting rid of that mountain ash barrier.” Stiles said with a grin, pulling at the spot inside his chest.

His spark, at least for him, felt like a campfire. It warmed him from the inside out, it’s heat soft and comforting. He called on it now, letting it rise and expand in his chest. He called upon the mountain ash holding the barrier and  _ tugged _ , pulling it with his magic and directing it, shaping it into a smooth circle around two of the wolves.

Deucalion just grinned wide, barring his teeth, “You really think you can get past the three of us?” 

Stiles just shrugged before bringing his arm up, loosely aiming at Ennis before firing, the shot echoing in the hall as the man stumbled a half step, hand quickly going to apply pressure to the wound. He had only hit the man's’ shoulder, but he fired again, this one landing atop his heart. He stumbled to the ground, falling heavy onto his knees and he swayed in place before falling backwards.

The twins darted forward only to slam into the mountain ash barrier Stiles had laid down. The beast roared and rushed at the barrier again, Stiles taking a half step back at the force of it. He held his own though, pulling harder at his spark and closing the circle tighter around the creature, locking it in until it hardly had enough space to move it’s arms. 

“Stiles!” Allison cried as part of the circle swirled into the air, floating up to the Alpha’s mouth until it was forced to breathe in, immediately starting to choke. Stiles just ignored her, funneling more ash into the wolf's mouth until it began to split apart, stuck in an unnatural state of half shift until Stiles dissolved the circle, the two twins falling to the floor and breathing helplessly, clawing at their throats as they continued to burn.

“ _ Stiles _ !” She called again and this time he turned to her keeping his gun trained on the convulsing twins.

“What the hell do you want!?” He demanded, eyes wide as he panted in his exhaustion, his trick with the ash taking much more out of him that he had planned for.

“What do you think you’re doing! You’re torturing them!” She all but screeched and Stiles just stared at her, mouth falling open in complete shock as her statement registered. Then he let out a short bark of a laugh, turning back to the twins putting a bullet between each of their eyes.

“I’m doing what I have to,” Stiles ground out, gathering the mountain ash that had been around the twins and shoving it towards the circle already surrounding Deucalion.

A gunshot sounded at his left and he whipped his head around, staring wide eyed at Chris before following the end of his gun to Morrell. She was clutching at her bicep, the bullet having just grazed the skin - something Stiles doubted was an accident. The man stepped forward, standing tall next to Stiles with his own gun still trained on Morrell. Stiles’ hadn't even heard her come up and it made him uneasy, that he could be so unaware of his surroundings. 

Stiles has no idea what could have happened if Chris hadn’t noticed her, but Stiles is sure if she had managed to release his circle Deucalion would have slaughtered them in an instant. In fact the man was letting out a low growl, his skin beginning to darken, darkening into a deep, leathery grey. It was horrifying really, but Stiles focused on his spark and the ash he was controlling and tried his best to split his focus.

He looked past the wolf and into the vault, catching sight of Scott and grabbing a vial of wolfsbane and chucking it at his friend, focusing intently as it broke and forcing it to surround him, Boyd bouncing off the barrier the second after it was set.

“Derek!” Stiles shouted, staggering a step back, “Get to Scott!”

Stiles focused hard on the two circles he was maintaining, breath coming heavier as he leaned back, knowing Peter would be there. And the wolf was, catching Stiles weight as he rested it against the man's chest, arms wrapping around him to keep him up. Not having to worry about standing he also let his arm drop, losing himself in the magic he was holding.

He watched as Derek staggered toward Scott and the line of ash slithered towards the Alpha, splitting only long enough to let the elder wolf in. He threw two more vials high into the vault and whimpered when his focus split again, his chest feeling like it was ripping in two as he manipulated the ash once again, his spark singing loud at him in protest. He just grit his teeth and pushed his power harder, wrapping the ash around Boyd and keeping him caged in, then doing the same for Cora when she came barreling towards her brother.

He called the ash surrounding Scott and Derek back, slumping back further into Peter, hardly aware that Chris was crowding into their side, adding his own support to Stiles. The boy let out a cry as he called at more of his power, the bright light inside him hardly flickering in its exhaustion. He wrapped the ash around Deucalion's legs, coating the man's thighs. The man screamed in anguish, his roar echoing the building and shaking the walls.

Stiles made eye contact with Derek, barely managing a nod before the wolf was darting forward, slicing his claws deep into the Alpha’s neck and pulling, shoving them back in and  _ ripping _ , sending his head flying to the other side of the room. Stiles collapsed at that, letting the last of his magic go as he blacked out.

* * *

Stiles was forced to consciousness by the beeping coming from beside his ear and he groaned, feeling the IV in his arm almost immediately. He sighed, blinking his eyes against the harsh light of the hospital room. His mouth was ungodly dry and his head still felt a little heavy, but otherwise he felt fine. His chest was a little sore, the reserve where his spark sat tender as he prodded at it.

He was more than a little surprised to see Peter sitting in a hospital chair, neck hanging uncomfortably over the back as the man slept. He was still in the same henley from what Stiles hoped to be yesterday, right foot crossed and balancing on his left knee. He stared at the man for a moment, not quite ready to question the warmth he felt at the man being here, and definitely not willing to think about the small grin he knew he was sporting.

He startled when the door opened, watching Peter snap upwards as well. Chris walked in, two cups obviously from the cafeteria balanced on top each other in one hand, the other still holding the door handle. He locked eyes with the other man, taking a moment to wonder  _ why _ both of them were in his hospital room before letting his head fall back with a groan. It was still pounding behind his ears but Stiles figured that the hospital lighting had more to do with that than anything.

“Hi,” Stiles tried to say, his voice coming out more of a pained croak than anything else. Peter all but jumped up and opened the water bottle beside his chair, fishing the straw out and holding it up to Stiles’ lips. Stiles swallowed and smiled warmly at the man, “Hi.”

“There you are,” Chris said, and the familiarity of the sentence was not lost on the boy, though he was wondering why it didn’t bother him at all, “How are you feeling?”

“Mostly fine? I have a little bit of a headache and my spark is  _ weak _ , but I’ll be fine.” He answered, smiling when the man took the seat on the other side of the bed as Peter. Yep, not thinking about it.

“I’m glad. You scared us,” He admitted, looking over to Peter for a moment before staring back at Stiles.

“Not just you passing out on us either.” Peter added, tilting his head and raising a brow.

Stiles just sighed, not wanting to have this conversation - though if he were going to have it these would be the two least judgmental people he could think of. 

“I - I promised myself I wouldn’t let anyone else I cared for die.” He admitted, staring down at his hands, “And the Alpha Pack had already taken Erica.”

He shook his head, trying to clear it. This wasn’t the time to mourn, that was something he would do on his own, later, “I just, I  _ couldn’t _ let them hurt anyone else.”

Peter snatched one of Stiles’ hands in his own, his eyes shining blue as he said, “I understand.”

And Stiles knew he did. Peter had ruthlessly gone after those who stole his family from him and had never once asked for forgiveness. In truth, Stiles didn’t think the man needed it for anything other than hurting those who were innocent. If someone killed his dad Stiles would burn the world down.

“Neither of us are judging you,” Chris assured, looking hard at where Stiles’ hand was still enveloped by Peter’s, “But we wanted to make sure you were okay. You took more than one life last night.”

Which, was a fair point. He knew he should feel some sort of remorse, should feel guilty in  _ some way _ , but he didn’t. These were monsters, they weren’t people, not after what they’d done. But he wasn’t sure how to  _ say _ that without sounding horrible so he just nodded, leaning back in his bed, flipping his right hand upwards in invasion. He wasn’t surprised when Chris didn’t take it, but the man did place a warm hand high on Stiles’ thigh, which may have been better.

“There’s still the Darach,” Stiles muttered, letting his eyes fall closed again. His head had hurt more the longer he’d stayed up and his body was still exhausted from all the energy he used the night before, not to mention the adrenaline crashed he probably went through.

“That there is,” Peter agreed.

“But now just sleep,” Chris urged, voice equally soft.

And so Stiles did, the warmth of Chris’ hand on his thigh, Peter’s calloused fingers brushing over his palm. The heart monitor was still beeping in his ear but he was comfortable enough, and the warmth from the two men was calming as it spread throughout his body, lulling him under. 640  

**Author's Note:**

> and alright! it is midnight, I am exhausted and it is here! I am the queen of procrastantion apparently, since I easily could have had this fic finished ages ago!
> 
> Here it is, murder! **Major** BAMF Stiles in this one, not only using magic but shooting people up! He is the best, and literally just takes down the alpha pack on his own! gah, love him!!  
>  Alright, so apparently Stetopher week has pushed me into writing longer oneshots! I don't know if this is going to continue to be a thing, but I am not complaining. I like pushing myself and trying harder with what i'm writing, and this week has really done that for me. With that, writing for set deadlines as been a cool experience, and one that has really pushed me to be the best that I can, and try my hardest to get content out there. So far I only missed friday, but then still uploaded a 6k fic the day after, and kept right up with the week! I am both excited and sad for it to be done - and am so excited to write some shameless self-indulgent fics after i'm all done, LOL!
> 
> alas, i hope you enjoyed!!  
> [my tumblr!](https://lavender-lotion.tumblr.com/)


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